


It wasn't a surprise.

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: If you're looking for something happy and/or smutty, M/M, Ugh, canonverse, don't read thus, im such a wild child, it's mature because i said cock literally once, this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 00:22:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3229178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em></em><br/><strike>He knew the man took his tea black, like the bags beneath his eyes.</strike><br/> <br/>Five years, six months since he last saw them breathing—Eren couldn't live without him, not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It wasn't a surprise.

**Author's Note:**

> This is why we don't write things past our bedtime, kids. You get this shit.

He supposed it shouldn't have come as a shock—not really. He knew the man took his tea black, like the bags beneath his eyes. The boy also knew that his thoughts were bitter, not unlike his beverage of choice, though the plaguing images had been chosen for him—knew that his eyes were not cold, but brewing storms of thought, grey fighting itself for an uncommon tranquility. 

Eren knew that he shouldn't have been surprised—not very—when one morning, the Captain spoke to him in the low, rough tone typical of him.

_It had been three years—_

_since the light last shined on the faces of his squad._

It had been that day in particular, and somehow Levi just _knew._

'Eren.'

'Yes, Captain Levi?'

They were alone—the others long gone from the mess hall table. They'd never understand.

'Don't let this life kill your spark.' 

That was all Levi had said - eyes directly on him, and Eren supposed that was enough. 

.  
.  
.

It was three and a half years following the date, the next time it happened. 

Eren sat down - chair scraping the browned, slow-rotting floor—the room long empty, as always. The captain sat in his normal position, empty spaces where _they_ should have been. 

The boy, who was certainly no longer a boy—shouldn't have been surprised when the Captain cleared his throat, drawing Eren's attention. 

He spoke then - rings beneath his eyes that had become darker than the tea he drank, now to burn his throat and nothing more, that had long since lost its appeal—but with grey eyes storming nonetheless. 'It's your nineteenth birthday today.'

Eren nodded, lips turning up slightly. 'It is, sir.' 

'Drop the sir. You've been my comrade for years, now.' Levi's hand gripped the delicate teacup with red trim at the top edges—calloused hands no longer feeling the heat radiating from the beverage. His hold was noticeably tight, long fingers pale as snow. 

Eren laughed, then—a small bubbling that began in his chest, breaking past his lips without permission.

He supposed the Captain's words were not surprising, but the small upturn of the man's lips seemed to be. 

.  
.  
.

Eren didn't know how many days it had been since the deaths of Squad Levi—couldn't have been more than a week since the man himself had smiled at him. 

_If it could even be called that._

He believed that it shouldn't have come as a shock when he found himself craving—longing to see that crooked expression again. 

An unmarked amount of days after their deaths, Eren confessed to himself what he had always been reluctant to recognize—that he wanted to lessen the dark, sleepless rings around a certain Captain's eyes - wanted to be the cause for his smile. 

It was a dangerous thought, indeed. 

But as Eren thought of the man's dark fringe falling over perpetual storms of grey—he supposed it shouldn't have surprised him, that he was determined to get what he wanted in the end.

.  
.  
.

Four years after their deaths—

Eren expected rejection. 

He wasn't shocked. 

But he was not relenting. 

.  
.  
.

Eren supposed it was not surprising when Levi sat in his normal spot the day that was four years, six months, following the deaths of his squad—tea scorching, dark rims beneath his eyes that never changed - were perpetual in the grand scheme of things. 

'You're twenty today?'

'Yes, sir.'

Levi nodded, not revealing his thought process to Eren. 

_He was simply sir, once more._

Even Levi supposed it shouldn't have come as a surprise. 

.  
.  
.

 _Five years,_ and Eren knew it, then. 

—could see the shock in Levi's eyes. 

'I know you want this just as much as I do, Levi. Please.'

And he did. 

'You're persistent, aren't you?'

In the moment Eren brought his lips to Levi's, the rings around the man's eyes seemed lighter in color—and he may have tasted bitter, of black tea and long smoked tobacco that burned the man's throat with each inhale—but the moment was far from such. 

It was unlike the Captain's favorite beverage, but similar to a sunset. 

A prelude. 

.  
.  
.

He supposed it shouldn't have come as a shock when the man beside him screamed mid-night—not really. 

'Levi, it's okay.' Sweat dampened head, eyes snapping open—pale, muscular arms finding their way around Eren's neck. 

'You look like her, you know.'

Eren didn't know.

But he supposed he shouldn't have.

.  
.  
.

It was surprising when Levi murmured a soft 'I love you,' into Eren's hair as they lay beneath the sheets of the Captain's bed—a pale hand slowly working along Eren's cock, the younger man's fingers digging into Levi's sides while thin, paled pink lips kissed at his neck—tan back arching off the mattress, small creaking noise nearly inaudible over the sounds escaping his throat. 

It was a shock, when Eren did not return the words—as another calloused, worn hand found its way to his cheek, the other moving agonizingly slow. 

And Levi smiled, then. 

Eren did not. 

.  
.  
.

Five years, six months since he last saw them breathing—Eren couldn't live without him, not really.

He did love him, just not in word. 

Hadn't said it.

Loving meant losing. 

Lady Luck was never one for him.

.  
.  
.

Seven years since they'd died—it seemed fitting, really.

Eren supposed it should have surprised him.

It didn't.

'I love you, Eren.'

And he kissed him then - knew it was too late to respond with the words that had burned the tip of his tongue for _two years_ —bloody lips meeting warm ones, _Eren's,_ for the last time.

'I-' he choked, eyes on grey that didn't blink. 'I love you too.'

Yet, he didn't know. 

Eren had never said it. Levi didn't find that important.

He'd known. 

'I always have.' 

.  
.  
.

It was eight years since they'd been killed. 

One year since he had. 

The boy looked into the stained, delicate teacup with red trim as the others emptied the mess hall—they'd never understand. 

Eren didn't find the taste of black tea so bitter as it burned his tongue.


End file.
